


Quell the Flame

by timefortea



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, F/M, Firefighter AU, Firefighter!Dean, Firefighters, Fluff, It just depends, M/M, Possible smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-21 03:55:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4814027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timefortea/pseuds/timefortea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you're in the business of saving lives, you know that you have to steel yourself against death.  If you're a police officer, you have to know there's the possibility you didn't get there in time.  An EMT may find that a car accident victim suffered a heart attack out of sheer panic. If you're a firefighter like Dean Winchester, sometimes you get to the scene and there are only past screams for help and hot ash.</p><p>     It's his job to save and forget.  Find em' and forget em' Bobby Singer says.  He couldn't forget this one man though, Castiel Novak.  He couldn't stop himself from finding him.  Castiel now pressures a guilt trigger in Dean's brain that only he can alleviate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quell the Flame

The lights glide over the wall as passing cars zoom past the Lawrence Fire Station. Dean sits up in his bed watching the curtains flutter as the breeze grazes the window. The soft hum of voices downstairs permeates the walls.  The other men are asleep in their cots.  The occasional sound of shuffling sheets interrupts the atmosphere.  The night had gone slow.  No calls of any sort.  These nights mean multiple beers, late night talk shows, and shooting the shit with the guys

 His eyes become tired of making images out of the plaster of the ceiling, so he swung his legs over the side of the cot and tiptoed to the stairs.  His grey sweats made a shuffling sound as they caught under his feet.  The stairs groaned under his weight as he made his way to the bay.  The red fire engines gleamed under the industrial lights.  The bay doors where open letting cool winter fall air into the space. 

The sound of cards slapping onto the metal table in the kitchen reached Dean's ears. 

"Royal flush." A proud voice piped.  

"Dammit, Garth. You counted the cards. I know you!" A gruff voice responded

Upon entering the kitchen,  Dean found Bobby scooping the cards back into the box a little too forcefully causing them to scatter onto the floor.  Garth put his gangly arms behind his head and perched his feet on the table.  

"You been Garthed, Bobby?" Dean smirks at the man sweeping cards off the floor.  Dean opens the fridge and stares at its contents till he decides that mustard and celery aren't a good combination seeing as that was all that filled it.

Bobby pushes himself up with a grunt and grasp his lower back grimacing. 

"I'm going to go have a civilized time by myself.  If any dispatches come in, you, Garth, Benny, and Balthazar go.  I need some time for my damn self."  

"Are you sure you want Garth to go?  I'm not sure he can handle the hose.  It might be too much, "  Dean says with a twinkle in his eye.  Garth, not very quick to sarcasm, drops his feet to floor and opens his mouth to protest before Bobby interrupts.

"He might make good kindling. Now leave me alone."  Bobby's muttering disappeared as he walked down the hall.  Dean pulled out a chair and traced the scratches from too many intense games of spoons played there.  Middles-schoolers aren't the only ones who can appreciate the art of a utensil based card game.  Balthazar upped the ante one time and changed the game to "knives".  It all started with butter knives and ended with Swiss army knives.   That turned into a trip to the hospital for Benny for stitches on his hands.

"So, did you get lucky with that Bethany girl the other night?"  Dean said readjusting himself in his chair.

"Her name's Becky.  She's a pretty great girl."  Garth corrected

"When you say great girl, my mind goes to "We're saving hand holding for marriage"  Give me something here buddy."  Dean quipped

"Well, she writes.  I'm not quite sure what she writes because she slammed it closed and told me I'd be dead before I read it.  I had dinner at her house, and I have to say her mother makes great mashed potatoes,"  A satisfied smile crossed his face, but he was really just thinking about mashed potatoes.

"Wait, mother?  You've really turned yourself a new one there buddy!  Trust me it starts with a great meal and then they suck ya in.  Next thing you know you're paying off the mortgage on the summer home her parents can't afford.  You probably just found yourself a family of succubi." Dean raised his eyebrows and tilted his head prompting a response. 

"Becky's family isn't like that.  I'm pretty sure they only have a cabin out in Colorado."  Garth responded.

"Case and point, buddy. Case and point."  Dean said huffing and setting his chin on the cold metal table.  

With a spark of static, the dispatch radio came to life on the table.  

"Attention, Lawrence Station 5. Engines 1-4 respond to South Meadows Apartment Building 3 on East Maine." 

"Flames are being shown and occupants are currently in the building."

Garth's eyes widened while a swallowed a lump in his throat.  He had just graduated from being a rookie to hanging out with the big guys.  He had only dealt with out of control bonfires and mild car accidents thus far.

"Ring the fucking alarm, Garth!"  Dean said waving towards the pulley.

"5 story residential apartments.  Fire stemming from the 5th floor.  Falling debris hitting the south stairs"

Dean clamped down on the talk button. "Dispatch, Lawrence Station 5.  We have received."  

The alarm is now blaring throughout the department.  Above their heads, the thud of the firemen's feet are shaking the ceiling.  Generally, in the case of a small fire you can send out one truck manned by 4-5 men, but when the red alert alarm goes off, it means all hands on deck.  

Dean's waistband snapped as he tucked his radio in it and jogged into the bay.  From scanning the room, Dean couldn't see Bobby lumbering around cussing out the slow-pokes. This was a golden opportunity to delegate seeing as he was in training to be the new fire chief.

"Engine 1: Suppression  Engine 2: You're going inside with me  Engine 3: Equipment Engine 4: Backup.  Let's roll out!"  Dean said snapping on his suspenders.  Bobby hopped on the engine 2 at the last second.

"I can't even hear the alarm from all the years of desensitization,"  Bobby breathe hitched as he adjusted his helmet.

"You're gonna have to start keeping up old man!"  Benny Lafitte said slapping Bobby on the shoulder.  Bobby's eyes cut into Benny.  The old geezer was quite aware of his age and would tear into any man who suggested that he was incapable, although Benny has a way of insulting anyone and finding a way around the line of fire.

Smoke billowed into the sky as they neared South Meadows.  Cars were stopped in the middle of the road watching the spectacle.  Balthazar let the horn loose on the ignorant drivers.  The men pushed through the traffic and entered the complex.

"We got a bad one boys,"  Balthazar, the truck driver, grumbled.  The engine had barely stopped before we were out and donning the last bits of our gear.

The distant wail of the ambulances pierced the air.  The firemen were the first to respond and were placing oxygen masks over the faces of the coughing bystanders in the parking lot in front of Building 3.  Some were neighbors in with rags over their faces, others were in soot covered pajamas watching their homes decimated.

A hand slams on Dean's shoulder.    

"Dean, you're taking fourth and fifth floor.  I'm taking third.  Benny you're second.  Balthazar, you take first then go and help Dean."  Bobby directed.  He roughly patted Dean on the shoulder before heading towards the building.

With a deep breath, Dean began to jog towards the north stairs.  As a firefighter, you grow used to having 50 pounds on your shoulders, but it's never a welcome feeling when you have four flights of stairs to climb.  Grey smoke began to obscure his vision as he ascended.  Below him he could hear the thunk of doors being kicked open and the cries of fear as the people were being rescued.  As Dean reached the top floor, he began his search.

He bumped a slightly open door, "Is anyone in here?"  Dean yelled, slightly muffled by his face mask.  Cool air from his tank spread through his mask.  The shrill pitch of a fire alarm tapped on his ears.  After clearing the apartment, he left the door open signaling that it was clear. He went from room to room on the fourth floor with no people to show for it.  When he reached the fifth floor, he swept all, but one the apartments when he heard a thumping against the wall.  He walked towards the offending apartment and opened the door.

"Hello!"  He shouted, scanning the room.  In the corner, an older woman was cowering under an afghan.  

"I can't use the stairs!"  She yelped gripping tighter the blanket.   

"I need you to close your eyes and mouth so you don't get smoke in them and pull your nightgown over your mouth, ok? I got you."  He said while lifting the small woman.  He nudged the door open.  She buried her face into his coat and took gasping breaths every few seconds.  The steps were slightly obscured by the smoke and if one foot misses they will both be tumbling down scorching, metal staircase.  Dean kept close to the wall as a guide.  When he made it down,  a young woman runs up with tear-stained cheeks.

"May! Are you ok?"  The girl cried.  In her frenzy, the girl was hindering Dean's trek to the EMT's.  He pushed her out the way and laid her down on a stretcher. The lady began to sob.  The woman ran up and held her hand as an oxygen mask was given to the old lady.

"You're fine, Ms. May.  You're safe." The woman said gripping May's hand.

Bobby's voice came over his radio, "If anyone else is in the building,  evacuate.  The structural integrity is failing.  I repeat evacuate."

His coat pulled down with a short tug.  May was looking at up at him with fear-stricken eyes, "Mr. Novak.  Mr. Novak."

"I'll see if I can find him for you, Ma'am." Dean promised beginning to turn away.

"May, Castiel is still away on vacation,"  The girl said looking worriedly at the old lady.

"Came back early. 412" She croaked.  Dean whipped back around.

Dean began to shout the man's name. "Is there a Mr. Novak here?"  No one had seen him, not even the residents of building 3.

"Shit!"  He pulled his mask back over his face.

"Dean, this building is going to collapse on the north side any minute! You're not going back in!" Benny objected gripping his shoulder.

Dean stared at the soot-covered man and began to sprint towards the building.  Benny followed him till Dean entered into the inferno.  The man was going in one way or another. No one left behind.  He remembered checking that apartment.  No one was there.  He found 412 and pushed through the wall of flames that was beginning to grow at the doorway.

"Mr. Novak!"  He yelled.  He opened closets, looked, under the bed, and opened the shower curtain again to no avail.  When he crossed an office space he noticed a piece of the flaming ceiling had fallen on top of a turned over bookcase.  A hand was barely visible in the smoke.  The fingers were slightly twitching.  

"Hold on!"  Dean lifted the bookcase and saw a man covered in burns.  His eyes were fluttering as his body shuddered.  With a second of doubt, Dean took off his mask.  No more fresh air for him.  "I'm gonna give you some oxygen.  Don't panic on me, OK?"  Dean put the oxygen mask on the man and watched as his eyes seemed to register for a moment and then resume their fluttering.  

Dean pulled the man onto his shoulders.  He grunted under the weight.  As he struggled towards the door, a crashing sound filled the atmosphere.  Settled soot was dislodged from its resting place and filled the air with more hazardous oxygen, or lack of it. "Hold on, Mr. Novak!  I have you!"  Dean sputtered.

"Dean get out of there! Now!"  Bobby yelled over the radio.  Dean began to navigate through the smoke.  He could barely see and it was filling his lungs.  He found his way out of the apartment.  The heat became more unbearable with no protection on his face.  As he reached, the second floor his radio piped up again, "Dean! It's falling! C'mon, get out! Get out!" Bobby thundered.  Dean began trying to go faster, but the heat felt like it was baking his insides into a nice pot roast.  Flaming bricks began to fall dislodge. Rafters fell in his path.  Smoke filled his lungs and his eyes felt heavy.  His knees began to falter.

A hand was weakly tapping his back. Mr. Novak must have been somewhat conscious. He couldn't let this man die when he had a chance.  Dean cried out and pushed to the last step.   Bobby ran up and pulled them away from the building.  EMTs ran up with stretcher.  Dean eased him down.  The man made a muffled cry.  His eyelids flew open revealing stark blue  eyes.  They contrasted with the sooty, burned skin that surrounded his face.  Red and blue lights cast themselves around onto Benny's face as he ran up to him.

"I'm tired," Dean said before slumping into Benny's arms.  

 


End file.
